The stains of red splattered on the white marble, the tears that ran down his cheeks, and the looks of shock and despair on the faces of the loved ones whose lives he had sold to a false prince.
Deidara looked up to the dark sky as he tried to rid his mind of the moments that plagued his nightmares. He wondered if they would ever let him be; living was exhausting enough as it was. Let him pretend to have a peaceful life when he slept, and to not wake in the middle of the night with his eyes stinging from the tears he shed in his sleep.
The memories of the people he hurt were not as easily burned away as their physical bodies had been.
The stars were still out in the night sky as Deidara hesitantly rose from his bed. Roshi had been sleeping in their home for about an entire month now, and Han had taken the liberty of building Deidara a bed that was separate from the two older men. Once Roshi had been informed about their true "marriage", he immediately suggested that this should be done to avoid any unwanted complications as Deidara aged - or at least until either of the two found a partner they actually desired to be with.
It had been three months. Three months of extended visits from his brother-in-law, Roshi. Three months of quietly nodding along to every life skill Han taught him, making his best effort to not break from a chagrined smile despite the turmoil inside of him. Three months of utter emptiness in a hollow mountain valley, covered in a white blanket of snow that had only just begun to wane. Three months of an absolute standstill with the cloaked men's unknown arrival, and three entire damned months had been wasted - with less than ten lessons given to Deidara to hone a Kekkei Genkai he hadn't the slightest grasp on.
In the throes of his frustration, Deidara found that he could not stay asleep for very long these days. His Prince had yet to make a reappearance; it would have been a welcome change from the expected house guests. Between the red-haired man who set his old home ablaze, and the inevitable men who would come to gather Han at an undetermined point in time, a prince who could disappear in an instant sounded all-too-perfect as Deidara humored the thought in his mind.
He wondered if His Prince had anything to do with this remarkably long wait time. In an odd way, Deidara was technically working with this man to kill his husband. Maybe, being the benevolent prince he was, he allowed Deidara a little bit more time to enjoy the sham marriage. It wasn't a hard life - just incredibly mundane and uninspiring. He imagined that an easy existence wouldn't be likely in the near future after he was widowed at the antiquated age of fifteen. There might even be a possibility that he would need to run away from the village, though he couldn't rationalize why he needed to do that if he hadn't hurt anyone directly.
In the wee hours of the dawn, Deidara shuffled out of his warm bed to face the daily tasks he minded for the stronger residents of the home. It saved them a good bit of trouble to not have to do any of the housework, and focus on the jobs that needed to be done which required heavy lifting. Deidara's weight had barely improved even after the regular meals of venison and game birds caught by Han, so he still wasn't at an acceptable level of strength in his teacher's eyes to take on the role of a hunter just yet. Just so, since Deidara didn't mind the privilege of tending to the easiest tasks while everyone else did all of the laborious work.
The outside was dark, but not as cold as it had been in the dead of winter. Soon enough spring would come in full to the valley, and with it a slew of new tasks that Han had thought up for Deidara. As he glanced up from where he gathered the wood for the hearth, the chicken coop and stable Han and Roshi had almost finished reminded him of just that. Deidara couldn't quite bring himself to mention that he had almost no experience in animal care, and didn't know how competent he would be at raising livestock. It probably wouldn't do him much good anyway seeing as Han had been quite adamant that Deidara was given this gift, and all of the work that entailed.
Deidara quickly gathered the most wood he could carry in his arms, as the bite of the cold morning winds were too much for him to handle for long periods of time. He hoped that the ice would melt soon this year - the sooner that the northern mountains became more accessible, the sooner Deidara would get his answers for the cloaked men and His Prince's plans for Han. Even though he didn't pay it much heed, Deidara occasionally wondered if they had any plans for him as well. After all, he didn't exactly know what would become of him after Han was taken away. It would be nice to know if he had a safety net; with His Prince, at the very least.
Thump, thump. Deidara put in a great effort to not wake Han and Roshi while he rekindled the hearth, which caused the logs to make a dull noise as he delicately dropped them into the weak fire. He fanned them a bit to make the flames engulf the new wood brought for it to devour, and to provide them with some semblance of warmth in this cold early spring morning. It didn't matter if Deidara's hands were caught in the flames - nothing like that could kill him; it only made sense that he was tasked with the duties that involved dealing with extreme heat.
Deidara quietly sighed as he took the broom and dustpan from the corner of the kitchen and began to sweep up any traces of filth or grime that entered in the night. The noise of the scraping on the hardwood was usually what woke up Han, as it meant breakfast would soon be prepared. Deidara could certainly cook, that much was true, but Han seldom allowed it. Whether it was due to a desire to improve as a chef, or simply because he didn't want to make Deidara feel as if he were a domestic servant, Han vehemently insisted that he would be the primary food provider and cook.
It wasn't long until Han stirred from his sleep, and Roshi woke up mere seconds after him. Deidara flashed them a warm smile; he felt a sense of satisfaction in taking care of the home he shared with the two brothers. Roshi gave a loud yawn and stretched with a decent amount of energy for someone who slept like a log through the night. Han cracked his back and arms as he straightened out; he was usually far less talkative in the mornings. Roshi being there was a blessing; if it weren't for his brother who served as a form of comfort for Han, Deidara would almost never have been able to get more than a few sentences out of him.
In his naturally booming voice, Roshi said "Good morning, Sundrop. Up with the stars again, were you?"
"Morning to you too. You know me by now, I can't sleep a wink unless it's under five-below," Deidara said as he grabbed some clay plates he had crafted for the kitchen and set them on the table while the two talked.
Han placed a large pot on a rack above the hearth, then dumped a pitcher of sterilized water and a slew of preserved vegetables into the old cookware. The stocks of vegetables were low - only carrots and a few potatoes were even edible any longer. Thankfully spring was not too far off, and neither was the Stone Village if they got desperate enough for new crops.
"Venison gonna be good for you?" Han asked with a grunt.
"Yeah, that'll be perfect. You two sleep okay, hm?" Deidara asked.
"Oh, like a couple of babies, Sundrop. That old horse snores like a damn earthquake!" Roshi said with a laugh.
Han looked shocked, but kept his composure and said, "I slept fine, Deidara. Your brother-in-law over here talks like he doesn't do the same thing himself, don't pay him any attention."
Deidara chuckled, "Alright, alright. I definitely get the picture."
After the preparations for breakfast had been completed, Deidara took the liberty of resting in a zaisu for a little while. He was always a bit tired, and never really able to catch up on sleep. It wasn't his personal choice; the thought of what was to come was too much to bear in his mind. It kept him up at night, and if he did manage to sleep Deidara was often met with the face of His Prince or being engulfed in flames all over again. Though he couldn't quite put a finger on it, something about His Prince shook him to his very core. "This was a bad man," his gut said, yet his mind had been set on him ever since.
A loud tapping noise on the window pane broke Deidara out of his reverie. It wasn't long before Roshi had opened the window to look outside for whatever was responsible for the disruption of their quiet morning. Han stood in front of Deidara, his posture tensed from the sudden shift in the atmosphere of the home. Roshi stuck the entirety of his torso out the window; a few moments passed where he shuffled around for any clue, he let out a laugh. He pulled back inside with a letter in his hand and a look of relief on his face. Without any exchange of words, he handed the parchment to Han.
Han opened the envelope and examined it, then laughed a little as well. Deidara looked at the two men, puzzled by the peculiar glee they took in what the letter said. As illiterate as ever, Deidara had to wait for Han to explain what was so funny about the mail they received.
"Looks like the old man wants to hold court, Sundrop. We've apparently been invited to some kind of formal event," Han said.
"When are you going to teach that boy to read by his own damn self?" Roshi said with a groan.
Han pretended not to hear his brother, and said, "We'll need to get fitted for some formal wear if we choose to go."
"Makes me wonder why dad's letting us back in the city all of a sudden," Roshi said under his breath.
"I didn't see anything about you in there, Roshi. This might all be about the kid over here. We didn't really get a proper 'reception', after all," Han said with a heavy sigh.
"Are we going to go to the Stone Village, hm?" Deidara asked.
Han scoffed as he tossed the letter on to the table, then said, "With this snow? Don't be a damn fool, Sundrop. We're staying put for now - all three of us."
"But why?" Deidara asked, somewhat disappointed.
"We're safe here, that's why. Why tempt fate when we have the Mother's greatest fortress all around us right where we are?" Roshi said.
"Not to mention that this could be a trap," Han said, to which Roshi nodded.
"You can never be too careful with these things, Sundrop. You'll be thanking us when you're eighty years old, your brood of children and grandchildren sitting around you, telling them about all the adventures you went on where you didn't die," Roshi said.
Deidara briefly remained silent until he said, "Why would they want us in such a public place if they were going to capture Han, hm?"
Han clenched the edge of the table he had been leaning on tightly; he didn't want to snap at Deidara. He knew he was right, at least in a logical way. You could spend hours agonizing over the correct decision here, and he didn't want to start with this bullshit so early in the morning.
"If you think we're sitting ducks here, then how do you propose we get to the Stone Village? They didn't send us the letter in your narrative, right, Sundrop? Then they don't know we're all here. What's the point in leaving?" Han asked in a harsh voice that challenged Deidara to complete his thought process.
"Wouldn't shifting our location around be a good thing? Besides, even if there isn't really a 'recepitation' or whatever you said, we can still buy some supplies and vegetables. Doesn't that justify the trip, hm?" Deidara said.
"Well, yes, but-"
"Can't we go then? Please, hm? It's only for one day!" Deidara said abruptly, which cut off Roshi. There was a visible look of irritation from Deidara's brashness on Han's face, and a glare towards him that demanded he apologized to his brother-in-law.
"Oh... I'm sorry, Roshi. That was very rude of me, please forgive me," Deidara said as he bowed in deference.
"I've forgotten what it's like to be fifteen..." Roshi muttered.
"So you're bored. Is that what you're trying to tell us, Sundrop?" Han asked.
Deidara's eye darted off to the corner of the kitchen; he didn't want to upset the men that had taken such care of him, and kept him safe during a time he would not have survived if left alone. It took a great deal of grit to unclench his jaw to speak, but he knew he would go completely mad if he were to stay here for months to come without a break.
"Y-Yeah, I'm sorta in the mood for something different. A change of routine, you know, hm?" Deidara said.
Han looked to his brother, as if he expected an answer. Both men were uneasy about giving in to a teenager's demands, but it was just as true for them as it was for Deidara: They grew weary of the day-to-day. This might be the perfect opportunity to escape the doldrums of their secluded home - if only for one night.
After a long silence, Han finally said, "Alright, fine. We all clearly are getting a bit of cabin fever, and we'll need supplies anyway. Grab your coat, Sundrop."
Deidara was taken aback by the spontaneity of Han's decision, which was evident by the way he stuttered like a fool before he hustled off to grab his coat near the front door. Han followed at a slower pace, as did Roshi. The whole thing seemed surreal to Deidara, but every glance backward told him that he was really leaving home.
Before Han locked up the door, he motioned for Deidara to come to his side. He gestured to the inside of the home, and asked "Is there anything you want to take with you on the trip? For emotional support, that is. You never know what could happen out there."
Deidara shook his head and said, "No thanks, I'm good with what I have."
Han locked the latch on the door, and gave the wood a solid smack. "There we go, all set. Let's be off."
-and-and-and-and-and-
He was a quiet man, and not one for a fit of passionate, unrelenting rage.
However, he saw it fit to murder the man at the end of this uncomfortably long hallway.
Sasori couldn't be arsed to wait patiently in his own home any longer; this needed to be addressed now. First, it was the random ghosting. Then came his oh-so-beloved boyfriends of make-believe, and the countless hours Sasori wished for regular eyeballs to roll as his partner droned on, and on, and on about the various things he was going to do with a teenager's special eyeballs.
"Just shove them up your ass," Sasori wished he had said such a thing, or anything at all for that matter. Serves him right to try and be nice, and happily nod along to that deranged psychopath's monologue.
Sasori gave a loud, brief knock on the door. He folded his arms, and attempted to be as intimidating as a man who barely broke five feet with cartoonishly-red hair could possibly be. The moment that Orochimaru opened that door, any likeness to a cherub would be swiftly replaced by Sasori's venomous gaze and diatribe. As much as he hated to wait, he was a remarkably patient man; it had to be worth some serious time, effort, and occasionally money to make him this visibly upset at a single person.
The door creaked open, to which Sasori braced himself to unload the tongue lashing of a lifetime. What his partner did was unforgivable, and made him look guilty just by association. Insults, curses, so many words available to him, yet the only word that came to his mind was filthy. That was what he thought of him right now; he was little more than the mud beneath his shoes to him.
Orochimaru slid out of the door, not entirely emerged from whatever he had occupied himself within that room. His expression turned sour at the sight of his enraged partner, but politely said, "Hello Sasori. I don't suppose you're here to throw yourself at my bedside and be my doting nurse while I'm so gravely wounded."
"No, I'm not," Sasori said with a low growl.
"Then you were made aware about what happened, and not the fact that I suffered horrible injuries? That sounds like some one-sided favoritism to me," Orochimaru said.
"Well, you should have known how little we needed you! You basically brute-forced yourself into Akatsuki, and now that you've screwed up beyond repair I'm the one who has to do the damage control!" Sasori snapped.
"Oh, Sasori, you don't have to go to such lengths," Orochimaru said, his voice softened.
"Oh? You think I'm trying to cover your ass in this? You must hold me in pretty low regard if you think I'm going to come to your rescue," Sasori said.
Orochimaru remained quiet. There was no use explaining things to his partner when he got into this state, or even saying anything. Knowing Sasori, he had already prepared a speech for this moment. He was just going off of his script, and the most Orochimaru could do in his weakened state was let him finish.
"I'm only trying to make sure eight absolute nightmares don't come after me! I'm content with my already-limited peace, thank you very much!" Sasori said, his voice raised with every word he spoke.
"Listen, I never liked you. I never cared about you, and thanks to your little stunt, I hate you. But being the patron saint of this little group, I'm just kindly giving you a heads up: You're now our enemy, and the next time I - or anyone really - catches sight of you, you will be killed. I want that ring back, too!" Sasori said so loudly that his voice echoed through the empty halls.
Orochimaru remained silent for a moment to make sure Sasori was finished, then said, "I don't have it. Itachi destroyed it along with my hand. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors."
The door slammed shut, and Sasori was left alone in the dark hall. He was shaken, still enraged, but he didn't genuinely care about the ring. That was something he remembered to ask at the last moment on behalf of two of the senior members, and he expected such a half-hearted answer from him. His quick-footed pacing down the hall, and back up the stairs from which he came was given great care to be as loud as he could make it. He didn't want Orochimaru to get one minute of rest as long as he was still there; it was a petty act, but it was what worked for him when he needed that last dig to soothe his anger. Petty worked for him; it suited him just fine to behave in such a childish way when going against people he never desired the respect of.
As Sasori walked back on to the surface, he hastily sidestepped away from the hole in the ground. When he turned around he was face-to-face with his beloved spy, Kabuto Yakushi, who had promptly shown up to help his master. Ever the dutiful little servant, Kabuto wasted no words before he knelt in front of Sasori. Utter obedience - Sasori's personal favorite trait in those he surrounded himself with.
"I assume everything went as expected," Kabuto said, his gaze focused on the ground.
"Worse, actually. He says the ring was destroyed, which I don't buy for a minute," Sasori said as he looked around for any signs of eavesdroppers.
Kabuto took notice of Sasori's trepidation and said, "Don't worry, Master Sasori. There isn't anyone following you. They still trust you, at least for now."
Sasori groaned, for Kabuto was absolutely right. While he was somewhat safe for the time being, there was the elephant in the room that Sasori was now officially operating solo. He would need a new partner, and the only one who tended to be in a constant state of "single" was Kakuzu. Sasori wasn't exactly in the mood to wake each morning to parts of his collection lifted, or worse: himself being sold off as some weird form of sex toy. It was absolutely out of the question, he thought. There would be no point in putting two tired, angry, old men together to argue until one sets the other ablaze.
Sasori bent ever-so-slightly down to Kabuto, and said, "I want you to help find me a partner. Go find me someone strong enough to be approved by our leader, but nice and obedient. Someone who will not be too much trouble to handle, and easy to control. Understood?"
The sweetness dripping from Sasori's words meant that he was genuinely desperate. Kabuto knew he could find someone extremely powerful with little effort; just down those steps led to a prison cell that ought to contain at least one man worthy enough. But as usual, Sasori was demanding in his requests. Someone powerful, yet obedient, and easily controlled wasn't a very realistic partner for one as small as Sasori was. That was unless Sasori was willing to task himself with rearing a child to meet these criteria. It didn't have to be a newborn; a fresh-out-of-the-academy Genin would suffice, so long as Sasori was able to keep his nastier side in check.
Even though his odds were infinitesimal, Kabuto nodded and said, "Understood, Master Sasori. I'll find a partner suitable for you, though it may take a bit of time to find the perfect candidate."
"You have six months. I'm being really generous here, so you better not test your luck anymore," Sasori said, his venomous tongue back in full-force.
With that, Kabuto vanished into the woods. Sasori reached into his coat pocket and felt around for that little slip of paper; if he could have sighed, he would have when he discovered it was still there. After all of this time, it was still here.
After all of this time, he was still here.
-and-and-and-and-and-
Pink, or blue? No, definitely blue.
The journey to the Stone Village had been a rather quick one, once the two older men came to the decision to simply scoop up Deidara and dart through the dark woods for roughly an hour. When the three had arrived at the edge of the village, the sight of a giggling Deidara kicking his legs about in Han's arms must have sent the wrong message to the guards who greeted them. Within the next hour, they were given a rather handsome amount of money to be spent on formal attire, as well as a few dirty looks from Onoki for the brief moment he had stepped out to greet his two sons.
Deidara grabbed the two blue ribbons in Han's left hand and set them on the counter for the woman to ring up for them. The shop clerk looked in befuddlement at the unique pair as they browsed for an outfit that wasn't too ill-fitting for Deidara, and a suit in a modest, muted shade for Han. To the young woman, it looked as if her village had gone to pot with the bafflingly low standards that it had sunken to. A man who paraded a young bride around in such an egregious fashion!
As Deidara gently placed a gown he could live with being seen wearing in public on to the counter, the woman silently made plans to renounce her citizenship, and promptly defect to a southern country - perhaps one with some semblance of decorum.
After Han laid his own selected dress robes on the counter, he said, "You're sure you won't be too cold in that, Sundrop? Those are spring robes, and it's not going to be too warm tonight."
Deidara nodded, and said, "I'll be fine, this feels like a summer afternoon compared to what we've been going through at home. Now, the buttons on this gown when it has such flowing sleeves was... ah, well, it was certainly a choice, hm?"
"We'll be purchasing these," Han told the clerk, then placed a fairly large amount of Ryo on the counter.
The woman hastily rung them up, as she wanted them out of her store as quickly as possible. Her eyes darted up to Han and shot him a glare from time to time, but he was thoroughly used to the treatment he received by villagers at this point. Deidara, however, stuck his tongue out at her whenever she looked back down. The woman handed Han the bag that contained his purchases, and immediately rushed to the back of the store. Han sighed, then took Deidara by the wrist and led him out of the store; all while Deidara gave the woman one last rude gesture with his hand.
The couple arrived at the dance hall a few minutes later; the distance the two walked was short, so that left both of them plenty of energy for the rest of the evening. All the better for Deidara, whose excitement was almost uncontainable over the prospect of attending such a frivolous party. Even the guards stationed by the doors eyed him with bemusement as he bounced to and fro. Han excused himself to change in a different room, which left Deidara alone to prepare.
As Deidara began the arduous process of fastening on his chosen dress robes, he wondered what his family would have said if they saw him now. Would his mother have beamed with pride, while his father begrudgingly told him that he looked great? Would his brother have given a silent smile, ever the doting protector of his beloved sibling?
Deidara shook his head furiously, and clasped the final button on the dress with a firm press of his fingers. It didn't need to be dwelled on any longer; he had a new family to care about. He could not waste his entire life in mourning of those who had died. When the tiny voice in Deidara's mind echoed the fact that he had gleefully sold his new "family's" lives to a new piece of arm candy - one who never even gave him his name - he pushed the alarming thought back into the recesses of his mind. It was time to say adieu to the discomfort of morals and matters of the heart; tonight, he only thought of the dances and joy that awaited him.
Han knocked on the door, and said, "Listen Sundrop, would it be too much to ask that you put on some gloves and a fur? It'll put me at ease to know you're warm."
Deidara opened the door, and said, "That's fine, just give them to me and I'll put them on."
Han handed Deidara a bundle of clothing, which was probably something he had picked up in one of the spare rooms here. The gloves were form-fitting, and the fur was more of a shawl on his shoulders, but it went well with his robes in an odd way. Deidara slipped on some shoes, and looked to Han for a sign of approval.
Han looked him over, and said, "Your hair is still a mess. It needs to be fixed."
"Oh... yeah, it does need a good brush, doesn't it, hm?" Deidara said, his face flushed from the embarrassing realization.
Han silently began to detangle Deidara's hair, then weaved two braids that he tied up with the blue ribbons. After Han pinned them into place, Deidara looked himself over in the mirror. He smiled, impressed that Han was so talented with hair.
"It looks great, thanks. I didn't know you were so skilled with hair," Deidara said.
"I took a few lessons from a good friend of mine. She took pity on me when she saw that I had no life skills, but I'm surprised I can still braid so well after all this time," Han said with a grunt.
"A friend? Will I meet her one day, hm?" Deidara asked.
"Probably not, she's been in hiding for a while," Han said, then looked away from Deidara.
There was a short silence that followed until Deidara cleared his throat, then said, "Either way, we should meet up with the rest of the party. You look pretty handsome in that getup, by the way."
"Thank you, Sundrop. It's a damn shame we have to waste this evening looking so good when we won't be able to attract anyone we'd actually want to dance with," Han said.
"Playing the happy couple sure does put a damper on things, hm?" Deidara said, his voice slightly shaken.
"Yes, but sadly we have to keep up the charade. Onoki wanted me to be tied down for whatever reason, and if he wants something it's usually only a matter of time until he gets it," Han said.
Deidara winced at Han's words, only for the fact that it reminded him of His Prince's words. He said that Onoki wanted to kill him. Him, a poor boy from a valley in the mountains; a mere boy with nothing to offer but a love for working with clay. The more Deidara mulled over that, the less it made sense to him. Though the resurgence of those unpleasant thoughts had seeped into his brain, when Han held out his hand for Deidara to take he forced himself to smile in an almost chagrined, yet loving manner.
"Let's be off. We'll probably have all eyes on us tonight, hm?" Deidara said nervously.
Han threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, then said, "Oh, by the Gods, you're completely right!"
Han led Deidara out through the hallway, each side paired with a few guards that kept a very close eye on the two as they slowly made their way into the main room for the event. They were a bit early, but since they were the guests of honor at this party Han had insisted that they arrive rather early. Even Roshi hadn't caught up with the two quite yet, the said man-in-question had decided to take a large chunk of time for himself to rest at a nearby hostel - as well as skip the party. Deidara figured by Han and Roshi's reactions to being around large groups of people that this wasn't something they would have chosen to attend if Deidara wasn't a factor they had to consider.
The dance hall was almost entirely wood-paneled, and the afternoon sun brightened up the room by giving every stone statue a soft glow. To Deidara, the room was one of the most beautiful places he had ever seen. To Han, it served as a testament to the life he had gone to great lengths to avoid for decades.
Yet, here they were; a pair of undesirables that never really belonged anywhere, brought to a court of nobles to be put on display like a barbaric circus act. But to drag such a young boy into all of this; Han thought that it was the cruelest part of this game that they played, and it took everything he had to not dry heave whenever anyone referred to this boy as his husband.
"Um..." Deidara began to speak, but his words escaped him.
Han acknowledged him, and said, "Yes? Is something on your mind?"
"I'm not really a very good dancer. I don't want people to watch," Deidara said softly.
"You should have brought that up earlier. You're going to have to dance at least once tonight, and it's gonna be in front of everybody," Han said in a scolding tone.
"Would it be too much trouble if I excused myself outside for a little, hm?" Deidara asked.
"Where?" Han asked, skeptical of Deidara's motives.
"Just over to that courtyard. See? It's that one, right out there," Deidara said as he pointed to the small garden just outside of a side door.
Han was still skeptical, but he knew Deidara couldn't realistically run very far with all of the guards watching. It might actually calm him down enough before the crowds of people started showing up too, so there was no real reason to object to this small request.
"Fine, just be back before the sun's totally set. Go that?" Han said.
"No problem. I'll be back within the hour," Deidara said, and flashed Han a small grin before he turned to walk out of the door.
After Deidara closed the door behind him, Han was left alone to his own devices for the time being. He looked around the lofty hall, where little particles of dust floated above in the rafters. Out of the corner of his eye he almost spotted a slip of paper on the walls, but the moment he gave it his full attention there was no such thing.
It wasn't as if he didn't know what was inevitably going to happen; Deidara wasn't showing any sign of improvement after any training they had given him. It may have been due to he and Roshi's lackluster teaching skills, or maybe Deidara was simply a terrible student, but the fact still remained that Deidara was little more than a human meat shield for Han. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he did care for the boy a little. Maybe not in the way he was expected to, but in a pitying way he felt a connection to him. As he was, however, Deidara could not protect Han.
It had been almost forty years of endless torment as the five tailed horse's host, and in her defense, Kokuo was a rather nice beast. She was never really the problem; in fact, she had an inexplicable fondness for Deidara. She saw him as a child to play with, and one to love and nurture. It was her pointless kindness that urged Han to learn how to care for him properly.
It was really the people of his country, his village, and even his own family; they were the ones that tormented Han, and Roshi as well. He was sure Roshi would defect once he caught word of Han's capture, and hoped for a decent future to happen for Deidara. The Earth Mother herself knew that they both deserved something good to happen for once.
He figured it was time to ask whoever had followed them this far to reveal themselves, for he grew weary of the chase. It was time he settled things with this group of people that wanted his tailed beast.
It seemed the stalker had taken care of the first part for him, as when Han turned to face the front door a woman with blue hair stood in front of him. She blocked the path out of the building, but that didn't matter to him. He was tired, and he wanted to rest. Perhaps this woman would be the one to finally lay him down; he hoped that Deidara would understand his position. It had been a long time coming, and a long time wanted.
"I take it you're part of that group. So how will this go? I'm not in the mood to fight," Han said.
The woman had a downtrodden look about her; her eyes seemed sad, and her expression was almost unhappy. It was a far cry from the two that came before, who looked almost jovial in comparison to her. She stepped forward; though she was much smaller than Han, she knew that she held all of the aces in this situation.
"You mean you'll come quietly with me?" she asked.
"Maybe. I just want your promise that you won't harm my student out there," Han gestured to the courtyard where he hoped Deidara was blissfully ignorant of what was happening.
"I have no orders to kill anyone if they don't stand in my way. If that's what you want, I can give that comfort," she said.
"Then let's make this quick. I guess it would be a problem if I said goodbye to the kid," Han said.
The woman eyed the door, then said, "I'm afraid that it would raise suspicion, I'm sorry. Let's go now."
"Your Jutsu is paper-based, right? Do you mind if I borrow a few pieces of it? I want to write a note to the kid," Han said.
"But I don't have a pen," the woman said.
"It's fine, I think I have one in my coat here. Ah, yeah, here we go. Now hand me a piece of that paper you've got there," Han said as he pulled out a small pen from his coat pocket.
The woman handed Han a few slips of her paper, and Han quickly scribbled down a sentence on each one of them. He folded them individually, then handed them to the woman. She looked at him, puzzled, and unsure of what he wanted her to do with these.
"Give them to him. I expect you to be the one to inform my pupil of my death," Han said.
"I don't think I should be responsible for them," she said.
"Just take them. Listen to this old horse's request, and just trust me that it's important that you be the one to give him these," Han said, his voice stern.
The woman scoffed, but begrudgingly took the papers. It wouldn't look good to waste a target's leniency by being rude. She could always stash them later, and probably forget about them quickly after that. She took Han's hand into her own, and within a few moments the bright hues of the dance hall faded away.
What Han saw before him was something unworldly, unholy, and almost pitch-black. There was no trace of familiarity in sight - only a damp, dark room with an eerie statue in the back. Han had a sinking feeling that his minutes were numbered, and with a resigned sigh, he began to say his final prayers to the Earth Mother under his breath. In the recesses of his mind, he kicked himself for not giving anyone a proper goodbye.
-and-and-and-and-and-
"It looks like it'll snow, doesn't it, My Sunshine?"
Deidara had only been outside for five minutes before he heard a familiar voice behind him. He turned around, and he jumped in shock from the figure before him. His appearance was a bit less regal in the light, with a large scar that covered half of his face and a bit of a limp when he walked. It didn't bother Deidara too much though; he had seen the condition most of the men were in where he lived, and this was quite an improvement from the average pug-nosed beast that walked about the streets in the daylight.
His Prince sneered, and with a grin, he said, "What's wrong, Sunshine? Aren't you happy to see your prince?"
Deidara's face flushed, and he said, "Yes, it's all well and good to see you here, but do you realize that we're not exactly alone here, hm?"
His Prince shrugged, and said, "If you mean those guards that were around here, I can just kill them if they get too close to me. I've already killed a few, actually."
"You seem to really rely on killing, don't you, hm?" Deidara asked, somewhat nervous to be alone with this man.
"It keeps the peace, and it occasionally pays the bills," His Prince said.
Deidara cleared his throat, and in an attempt to change the subject, he said, "So, what brings you here all of a sudden, hm?"
"I'm just here to pass along the message about your husband," he said.
"What about him?" Deidara asked, his body tensed.
His Prince paused for a moment, then said, "I'm here to ask what you'd like for your reward."
Deidara felt his heart sink, and his breathing grew erratic. He knew the weight of those words meant that something had finally happened, and of all things, it happened in the few minutes Han had left his sight. He felt a sense of guilt, dread, and a feeling of uncertainty for what was to come after the Tsuchikage had found out about his son's disappearance. More importantly, what was to become of himself, now that he was a widow.
His Prince walked over to Deidara, who was leaning on the nearest tree to support himself. When His Prince took him into his arms, Deidara crumbled into them as if he were made of the mud he was named after. He stayed there for a while, shaking, holding back his tears, and trying not to make too much noise. How could he tell this man that he was terrified to be completely and utterly alone? He couldn't bear to open his heart to someone he barely knew, let alone someone he had known for a while. It wasn't in his nature to be so sensitive, but at times he wished it was.
His Prince stroked his hair, and softly, he said, "You shouldn't be so sad, My Sunshine. He left with my affiliate on his own. He wanted to die. Don't trouble yourself with the desires of someone who didn't even consider how you felt."
Deidara rubbed his face into His Prince's coat, and said, "He didn't even ask to say goodbye?"
"No. I'm afraid when it came down to it, he only cared about his own wishes," His Prince said.
"He must have really hated me..." Deidara said under his breath.
"He hated everyone, My Sunshine. Those Jinchuriki - they're not a nice bunch. The world would be better off without them; that's what my group aims for, actually," His Prince said.
"I don't suppose your group is looking for a new member, hm?" Deidara asked.
His Prince looked him over, and said, "Sorry, you're not really what we want in my group. We don't let just anyone in. You actually need talent."
Deidara lowered his head; he was numb to the pain that those words normally would have caused him, and he didn't have a good response in mind to such an insult to his ego. Being told he had no talent was a new one for him, and he wondered if he would simply sink lower from here on, like a stone carelessly tossed in the ocean. The devilish husband killer; the black widow, a murderer by compliance at only fifteen years old. He knew that he deserved whatever he got, even if Onoki never found out the truth.
"I guess if I have to pick a reward, I'd just like some really nice sculpting clay," Deidara said.
"That's it? Nothing else?" His Prince asked.
"No. Just the nicest sculpting clay you can buy. That's all," Deidara said firmly.
"Fine then, if that's all you're asking for then I can get that pretty easily. You've officially earned the mercy of my group for being such a damn easy client," His Prince said, then stepped away from the more-stabilized Deidara.
"Thanks for the business, My Sunshine," His Prince said, then in an instant it looked as though he was sucked into some type of vortex. Before Deidara could even speak, His Prince had vanished into thin air.
So there Deidara stood; alone in the night while the snow had begun to fall, and no one left in the world that he felt close to. He gripped the fur shawl, somewhat thankful that Han had suggested that he wear it. His eyes stung, and his chest felt tight, but he needed to return to the dance hall. People were bound to show up soon, and he best be composed when they did; he had a lot to tell them, preferably without mentioning that he played a part in Han's murder.
He heard the door creak open; he turned around, only to be faced with a sight he hadn't seen in months. The robes she wore were red - an obvious choice for a noble in the Earth Country. Her face looked pained, as if she knew what Deidara was about to say before he had even said it. Yet she smiled, a look of relief on her face as she saw that Deidara was unharmed. She ran over to her former "mother", and embraced him in a tight hug. Deidara hugged her back; even if she wasn't the exact person he wanted to see, she was far more alive than anyone he wished to hug then.
"You're okay, big brother," Kurotsuchi said with her face buried into Deidara's chest.
Deidara patted her head, and said, "Yes, yes I am, little one. Is your grandpa around? I need to speak with him."
Kurotsuchi sighed, and said, "Yeah, he's not far. I'll take you to him."
Deidara nodded, and followed Kurotsuchi back into the dance hall. They went through a door that led to a large staircase; it must have gone up to the highest point in the building, because Deidara couldn't see where it ended from the ground. The little princess led Deidara up the stairs, and through a door that contained a room that was tiled with white marble. It was dimly lit by the moon and stars outside, though it was also quite empty. Onoki was nowhere in sight, only a large scroll atop a stone table was even in the room at all.
Puzzled, Deidara turned around to ask Kurotsuchi why they were there, but she was nowhere to be found. Deidara frantically looked around for her, yet he couldn't see where she had gone. He tried to leave the room, but as he was about to walk into the hall the door was slammed into his face. He stepped back, then immediately went to the window to escape. Before he had even begun to run, though, he felt an aching pain in both of his hands. It was almost agony, and he could feel his blood trickle down his fingers.
While he tried not to retch, he felt his punctured hands be pinned together. Someone was there with him; someone who was about to kill him. Deidara was held in place by his ghastly restraints as he felt the cold metal pierce his chest, then the sickening warmth of his own blood that emptied out of him onto the marble floor. He was let go, and fell onto the floor in agony. The stakes in his hands were removed with a quick, forceful tug. He could not scream, for his voice was hoarse and his mouth was full of blood. When he saw those little red shoes walk away from his immediate vision, he cursed himself for being so kind.
That was the last time, Deidara thought to himself. If that was what she had wanted - even if she were forced to do this - it would be no different than if he were to confront Onoki. How fortunate for everyone that he would be dead soon, so they wouldn't have to be subjected to Deidara's idea of just how to go about their deaths. He looked to the table in the center of the room, and up to the scroll on top of it. He figured he could destroy something of their's on the way out. The least he could do was knock over that pillar, and get his blood all over that important-looking scroll.
He crawled in a pathetic, bloody mess until he was an arm's length away from the table. He grabbed it and shook it until the scroll dropped to the floor beside him, and he made sure to grab it and rub his blood over as many places in the texts as possible. It wasn't until a few seconds of flipping through the parchment did he even bother to look down to the texts, even if they weren't able to be read by him. The one he was stopped at looked rather interesting, as it seemed to have two places on the scroll for the hands to be placed. Maybe it was a medical Jutsu? That would have been just perfect, but he couldn't be totally sure.
Deidara was dying, however, and the dying seldom went without a fuss. He should have lived his last moments how he saw fit, for nothing would truly be able to save him anyway. It was a childish thing to act on, but as Deidara rested his bloodied hands and chest on top of the scroll, he could have almost told himself that all would be okay. Someday, somewhere; just not here.
He rested his eyes, for the pain was numbed. The blood was still on the floor in a puddle, and he was still dead, but he was at peace with whatever awaited him.
-and-and-and-and-and-
In the end, no one came.
The sunlight poured in through the curtains in the room; a beautiful, ornate cage for one who would choose to stay trapped. The young boy sat in the tower, his robes torn, and his body mutilated. Yet, he was happy.
Beside him sat a rather substantial brick of clay, tied with a little red bow. His Prince had come in the night to give him this gift, yet all this little Sundrop could do was admire his own precious gifts he had given to himself. How beautiful he thought, and indeed he was. There was no one quite like him anymore, and that made him feel happy. Better than happy; he felt important, superior, and worthy this way.
It was a happy accident that the little modifications he had used to patch his body up were the first things to come into contact with this lovely gift. At first, he tried to fight it; he tried to remove the clay from the cute little mistakes in the palms of his hands. After a tiny bit of frantic meddling, Deidara had discovered that these weren't just disfigurations. These were meant to knead chakra into objects; with Deidara's naturally subpar chakra flow, it couldn't have been a more convenient page to choose to die on.
After a bit more careful experimentation, Deidara had discovered that his Kekkei Genkai was no exception. It had only been a few hours, but he was starting to understand how this was supposed to work. He needed to make the little sculptures in his fingers if he wanted the result to not be an unsightly mound, but it was a small price to pay - for now.
They hadn't come to retrieve his body yet, but when the inevitable guard walked in, they would be the first real canvas Deidara got to use for his new clay. He couldn't wait to take in the look on their face; how many faces would be enough to satisfy him, he did not know. Nor care, really. There was nothing to hold him back, and no one to hold him down any longer.
Deidara watched a little white bird fly about in the sky. It looked almost like a dove in the morning sun. It was beautiful, and doubly so when Deidara lifted his two right fingers in a hand sign and watched the little bird explode in a tiny burst of heat. It turned out he had a natural affinity for one-handed signs, which made him laugh at how stupid he had been to trust anyone else with his "training".
He felt akin to a bird right there, as he leaned over the windowsill and overlooked the whole Stone Village; he swore he could have taken flight right then and there. While it was mostly his own imagination, in reality, he truly had nowhere to go but up from here.
All the better, because he wanted the people he was going to murder to only look up to him. All was right with the world now, for the world was far beneath his feet as he soared to greater heights.
Deidara threw his head back and laughed, though his voice was still hoarse from last night. As another bird burst into flames in the distance, he realized how beautiful it looked when he had such control over it. The sickly noises his hands made now wasn't too much of a bother; not with a benefit such as this.
He had to remember to thank His Prince when he saw him again. This was quite a nice visit to the Stone Village, indeed.
-and-and-and-and-and-